Who I Am
by sarahsparrow007
Summary: The war is over. Anna Tremaine has lost everything. "She looked into to his cold, merciless eyes and knew her fate. No, she would not die today. Or the next. His pitiless eyes told her all she needed to know.
1. Chapter 1

You've probably never heard of me. My name isn't Hermione Granger, or Ginny Weasley, or even Millicent Bullstrode. My name is Anna Tremaine and I am insignificant.

Or at least that's what they tell me. They tell all of us that. In fact, we shouldn't even be here. We all deserve to die. One boy who was feeling exceptionally brave at the moment asked if we shouldn't be here then why were we. He was killed instantly. "Let that be a lesson to you worthless pieces of scum," they said, "You ought to be licking our boots for the kindness we have treated you with." Kindness is one word for it. Cruelty is another. They are trying to make us hate every bit of ourselves. Who knew one word could change my life? Yes, I am a muggleborn.

I never asked for this. I never asked for any of this. Hell, I didn't even know about this world until seven years ago. I was so confused when I got my Hogwarts letter. I was convinced that it was some sort of practical joke. When I neglected the letter, they sent some official from the ministry to talk with my parents who were just as confused as I was. They said it was typical routine to have to explain to muggleborn parents about the magical world. At first, my parents were reluctant to let me go, but in the end, they saw reason. A great education free of charge? Could you ask for more?

I was so alone that first train ride. I didn't know a single person and I was so scared. Barely two weeks ago, to my knowledge, none of this even existed. Now, I was on a train that was tearing through the English countryside to a seemingly fictional place. Just as I was beginning to regret my decision to attend Hogwarts, my compartment door slid open. A girl with wavy dark brown hair poked her head around. "Hey. You haven't seen a cat lurking around here, have you?"

My eyes scanned the isolated compartment, "No, I'm afraid I haven't. Sorry."

"Hey, I don't remember seeing you around Hogwarts, what's your name?" she asked kindly.

"Anna Tremaine. And yours?"

"Leslie Hopkins. You're a first year I take it?"

"Yes."

"Oh, okay. I'm a second year. Well I suppose I must be going…find Binx, you know?" she said just before a girl with shoulder-length golden hair stepped into the compartment breathlessly. "Oi! Leslie! There you are!" the girl had a slight Irish accent. She reached into her robe pockets and pulled out a tabby kitten, "I found Binx."

Leslie's face lit up. "You've found him! Oh my gods. Thank you!!" she exclaimed. The girl with the short hair flashed a quick smile and looked over at me curiously.

"This is Anna. Anna Tremaine," Leslie explained, "She's a first year."

"Ah I see. I'm Julia Ambrose," she stuck out a tiny hand which I reluctantly shook. "You want to hop over to our compartment with us? We could use the company."

We huddled together giggling the rest of the train ride. They explained to me the ins and outs of Hogwarts; how to avoid Filch, where to buy puking pastilles (Fred and George Weasley of course), and how to precisely to pass notes in potion's class. They weren't bad influences by any means, they just wanted to ensure I didn't make the same mistakes they had made in their first year.

The Hogwarts Express slowed to a halt and students began piling into the aisles. Fear captured me. Leslie and Julia had assured me that there was nothing to worry about the Sorting Hat, but I knew I didn't want to be in Slytherin, or Hufflepuff for that matter. The girls took the carriages up to the castle as I slumped into the boats led by an enormous man (was he entirely human?) named Rubeus Hagrid. There was a skinny boy with blonde hair who introduced himself as Colin Creevey, a strange girl with long platinum blonde hair named Luna Lovegood, and a red haired girl with a face dusted with freckles named Ginny Weasley.

From that point on, I had two wonderful friends. Friends I could count on, rely on, depend on for anything and everything. They were a year older than me, but it never seemed that way. We were always on the same level of maturity. However, in my sixth year, the girls' seventh year, things began to change. The ministry had fallen and all of us muggleborns were called in for an inquisition. Dean Thomas, a muggleborn friend who lived near me, and a few others of us fled.

A few weeks after we had fled, word got out that my parents had been brutally tortured and killed during my disappearance. The damn snatchers got to them. Everyone knew it. The filthy bastards had killed my parents. I was devastated. I had never known anyone close to me to have died and now I was a bloody orphan. I recall asking Dean why they put so much effort into finding me. All he could say was, "Anna, to them, money is money. It doesn't matter where it comes from. People like that have no soul." I shuddered.

As the year blew on, like a hurricane against our backs, we moved from location to location, never staying long. Depression enveloped me. But when we learned the Golden Trio was on the run as well, it sort of lifted our spirits and hopes a bit. We really believed in them. They were our last chance. But just as things were beginning to look up, just for the slightest bit of time, we were caught.

It had been chaos. We scattered like mice. The cats simply pounced. Expelliarmus and Stupefy was all it took to capture me. Some witch I am.

We were sent to the Lestrange residence. Never before had I seen such demented household decorations. The only muggle resembling object was a Francisco Goya painting, which I believe was called Saturn Devouring One of His Children. What a horrible painting to have in your home. We were led into the dungeon. It stank of suffering, mold, and despair. Dean and I looked at each other in terror. We were kept there for three weeks. Three solid weeks of sleeping on damp, stinking cement and being lucky to get a meal every couple of days. We were kept there until they decided to transfer us to Malfoy Manor. What a stupid decision on their part. Just as we were outside, their marks began burning. It was the final battle. The bloody idiots just left us there to our own devices.

How arrogant and stupid we were after that. It was Dean's idea really. He said he wanted to fight. He said it was a once in a lifetime opportunity to fight for what we believed in. Others told him it was rubbish, we would get ourselves killed, that we should escape while we had the chance. But a few of us, including me, admired Dean's bravery and valiance and decided to go with him. We found brooms in one of the neighboring sheds. We flew to Hogwarts.

I think everything else is self explanatory. We lost. Our saviour, had lost. We had nothing left.

The grass was damp. I wasn't sure if it was soaked with blood or drenched in dew. We were huddled around each other, bloody wounds, tear stained faces, and all. I had lost everything, my parents, Dean, even Leslie and Julia. All dead. Even Harry-our so called saviour. Dead. They swarmed around us in a circle, throwing us filthy looks and spitting at us. They paused when He came over.

"Well well well," he began in his menacingly high pitched voice. I had never looked upon someone who was so intimidating. "If it isn't our little fighters. Did you for one fleeting moment believe you could possibly defeat the Dark Lord?" He chuckled to himself and the Death Eaters around us followed suit. Their cackles echoed through the grounds. "What to do with them?" he thought aloud.

"Kill the filthy mudbloods and blood traitors," shouted a screechy woman's voice.

"Ah Bellatrix, that is indeed an option. But I have another idea." His eyes gleamed. God how I wanted to die. We had lost. It was supposed to be over. But no. The bloody bastard was going to make it drag on. We had been defeated. Why couldn't he accept his victory and be done with it already? I looked upon the faces of the rest of us. Hermione, the last of the golden trio was crying silently in the corner. Ginny and George Weasley were holding each others hand for support. I could tell they all were seeking the same end I was.

"Draco. Come forward please." I cringed inwardly. I knew Draco from school. Bloody ferret. He always taunted the Griffindors, his favorites being Ginny and I. "Yes, my lord?" he bowed his head down.

"How many have you killed tonight?"

I could see Draco trembling, "S-sseveral my lord."

"And their names?"

"I can't say for sure my lord. Everything h-happened so fast." He was lying out of his teeth and Voldemort knew it.

"Lies, Draco, lies. I know for a fact that you killed no one. You disappoint me." With that, Voldemort raised his wand and crucioed Draco. It was horrible to watch, even if it's your enemy. The sight of Draco writhing in agony on the ground made me nauseous, despite what I had just witnessed in the battle. "You disgust me Draco. Go home and get out of my sight." Slowly, Draco picked himself off the ground and disapparated.

"Now Lucius. Come forward please." A man with long blonde hair stepped forward. He was tall and he looked like he hadn't even been in the battle, his robes were neat and not a hair on his head was out of place. There was no doubt in my mind that this was Draco's father. "You, unlike your useless son, have been quite loyal to me. Especially tonight. Tell me, my dear friend, how many would you say you have killed tonight?"

"I would have to say at least twenty, my lord." Even in the darkness, I could detect Malfoy's smirk.

"Anyone notable?" Voldemort questioned.

"Amelia Bones and her daughter. Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin." Bellatrix let out a laugh, "And Arthur Weasley were the only noteworthy ones, if noteworthy at all."

"Very impressive, Lucius. That is why I have decided to grant you first pick of our survivors. It shall be yours to keep and do with as you please."

"Thank you, my lord. I am quite honored." Lucius kissed the hems of Voldemort's robes and stood up. With three large steps he was looming over us with a look of both disgust and desire. I cast my eyes downward, but I could tell he was looking right at me. God why me? "I'll have this one, my lord," he said as he grabbed me the arm and yanked me up. I looked into his cold merciless eyes and knew my fate. No, I wouldn't die today. Or the next. His pitiless eyes told me all I need to know.

"Very well, Lucius. You are permitted to take your leave." And with that, we disapparated.


	2. Chapter 2

We landed with a thud on the grounds just outside of Malfoy Manor

We landed with a thud on the grounds just outside of Malfoy Manor. He yanked me up off the ground with such force I could swear my arm was going to be ripped out of my socket. Wordlessly, he led me inside to the main hallway where a house elf greeted us with shaking hands.

"Good evening, master."

Lucius let go of my arm and threw the house elf his cloak. "Smock. Get this disgusting girl out of my sight and get her cleaned up. There are clothes in the armoire in the third guest bedroom. Send her into my study when you have finished. And for once in your pathetic life, do hurry." He left us without another word.

"C'mon miss," Smock said, "We mustn't keep Master waiting."

Without having much choice in the matter, I followed Smock up the marble embellished staircase, down a long hallway into a room that I presumed to be the guest room. As we walked into the bathroom, I took notice of the gleaming black onyx floors and the silver tub in the center of the room. At home, our bathtub was probably half the size of this and had low water pressure. Smock pulled at my sleeve, "Please," he begged, "Miss mustn't dawdle. Master shall be most displeased." Smock started the bath water and the room filled with steam. I peeled my ratty blood stained robes off of me. I hadn't had a bath in over a month. Why would Malfoy have ever chosen me? I probably smelled awful.

I stepped into the tub and my muscles immediately relaxed as the warm water hit my freezing body. The elf grabbed a washcloth and proceeded to scrub my arm. Each part that was washed off me reminded me of everything I had lost. First, my freedom. My freedom to go to school and learn like everyone else. My rights of being a witch, regardless of blood status. Second, my home. I had no other choice. I could either stay and probably be killed or leave and have a chance. I chuckled to myself. Back then I thought death was so horrible. Now I would welcome it with open arms. Third I lost my parents. Then my friends. Now I feared I was losing my soul. Merlin knows what I would be subject to in this prison. The elf finished scrubbing everything off of me, every speck of dirt, but everything that had happened in the past few months still swirled around my head. Despite the growing fear in the pit of my stomach, it felt wonderful to be clean again.

The house elf tossed me a towel and motioned for me to follow it into the guest room where clothes were already laid out for me on the bed. I pulled them on. Anything was better than the clothes I previously had on. I looked down with mild disgust. It was a simple black dress that was a little lower cut than I would have preferred and a little shorter than I would have liked. I wasn't sure he was expecting to see. From the past few weeks, I had become as skinny as a rail, but if he thought he was going to have his way with me, he had another thing coming. I had lost nearly everything, but certainly not my dignity. I'm not going to pretend I'm a brave person. Like I've said before I'm no Hermione, but I can't be expected to lie down on a bed and spread my legs for my enemy. Gods, I'm getting too far ahead of myself. He probably couldn't even look at me that way.

The house elf motioned me to the door, and I nodded, reluctantly following. We went down the same marble staircase and down a long hallway. I glanced sheepishly at the pictures frowning at me as we passed. "Stupid mudblood." "You don't deserve to be here." "Dirty whore." They shouted. I ignored their words. If I had learned anything in the past few months, it was when to keep your mouth closed. I didn't particularly fancy picking a fight with a painting not even an hour after I had arrived.

We continued on our way down the hallways, make an occasional left or right. Suddenly Smock stopped in front of mahogany door and knocked three times. I subconsciously began shaking. A voice came from inside the room, "Come in," Lucius drawled lazily.

Smock opened the door despite my inner protests and I was motioned inside. As I stepped inside the room, I cast my eyes downward. It was something I had learned well within the last few weeks. Pretend you aren't there, and perhaps they will as well. I knew that wasn't going to work this time. I saw Lucius standing up in front of me, looking just as immaculately clean as before.

He circled me, strolling casually. Each step of his was about ten of my heartbeats. He was leering at me with a look of restrained desire. Or at least that's what I read of it. I wouldn't trust my own thoughts if my life depended on it.

"What is your name…dear?" he asked mockingly sweet.

I just stood there. I didn't know whether or not to answer him. 'But it's only a name. It can't matter that much. He's going to find out anyway.' I felt as though I was under the Imperious Curse. My thoughts were like lightning bolts striking chaotically across a desolate sky. They were random and spasmodic. They couldn't kill though. They were powerless. They meant nothing.

"Your name?" he inquired again, becoming impatient.

"A-Anna Tremaine." I eventually said.

"Anna," he repeated, letting the letters form words in his mouth, letting them slide off his tongue, tasting them, savoring them, somehow trying to make them belong to him.

"You are a mudblood, are you not?"

'What kind of question is that?' I wondered. I was tempted to say, 'No, dumb fuck, I'm a pureblood,' but I didn't think it would get me very far, nor did I possess any sort of backbone to say something that bold.

"Yes," was all my cowardice allowed me to say.

"Mmhm, well that does change things quite entirely-" he began.

Lucius was interrupted by a flash of broomstick flying past the window in the study. Moments later the door burst open by a younger version of senior malfoy, a much filthier, wetter one.

"Father," Draco coldly greeted as he trudged past his father into the quidditch closets in the corner of the room, ignoring the mud he was tracking on the most likely extraordinarily expensive floor.

Lucius walked up behind his son and hissed, "Where have you been? The Dark Lord sent you home well over an hour ago."

"I think it is quite clear where I have been, father," Draco spat.

"When the Dark Lord gives you a direct order, I shall not stand to see you disobey it."

"I am not a child. I'm eighteen now." Draco tried to push past his father, but Lucius blocked his path.

"As long as you continue to reside under this house, you shall obey my rules. I won't even begin on the embarrassing performance in tonight's battle. The Dark Lord is already displeased with your inability to kill that old fool, Dumbledore. One more slip up or humiliating show and I just might not be able to get you out of any…erm sticky situations."

Draco snorted and continued towards the door, "I don't need your help. I can handle my own affairs. Just because I live here doesn't give you total dictation over my entire life. Besides, you know the spell, father. I cannot move out until I am married. However _unfortunate_ that may be."

Lucius stormed up to Draco, anger clearly evident in his face, "Do you really wish to test my patience tonight? Especially in front of our…company?" Lucius motion over towards me.

Draco looked over at me, smirking. "Well, well, well. If it isn't Anna Tremaine. Princess of the Mudbloods Next to Granger, of course."

Princess? Since when had I have proclaimed myself royal for being a muggleborn? It wasn't a fact I flaunted. I don't know why I was being paraded around as some tragic hero, with my tragic flaw being my blood status. I never bothered anyone, I kept to myself and my friends. I'm not Ginny Weasley, but I believe that has already been established.

"Tell me, how is Dean? You're little lover boy," it was clear Draco was taking his anger from his father out on me. "Is he dead? Your little boyfriend. He's gone now. Gone forever," Draco mused.

I could feel my face reddening with fury. How dare he! I might be terrified of Lucius, but I certainly wasn't of Draco. I had spent my days taking his insults and taunts for far too long. He had no right to bring Dean into this.

"Fuck off, Malfoy. Don't you dare talk about Dean. He was a thousand times the man you are," I spat.

"Oh really? Which one's still alive?"

"You may be alive, but don't act like you proved victorious over him. You certainly didn't kill him. You didn't do a damn thing, you bloody coward." I was shaking with anger.

Lucius, looking amused, stepped towards us, "Actually, my dear, I believe that credit belongs to me. Black boy, correct? Mudblood, if I'm not mistaken. Quite weak, if you ask me."

Fear and fury were battling inside me. My emotions were like water inside a hot kettle, ready to boil out. I had lost too much in this war, but I would not allow them to tarnish the memories of those I have loved. Without a second thought, Lucius's head snapped back awkwardly. I had punched him in the face. My eyes widened with disbelief at what I had done.

"Why you little-" Lucius began, wiping blood off his pale, elegant face, charging towards me.

"Allow me, father. A coward, am I?" Draco raised his wand. '_God_, what had I done??' I thought.

Suddenly, pain coursed through my body and I felt myself collapse onto the floor. It was nothing like I had ever experienced. Thousands of scalding, hot needles were stabbing their way into skin, into my organs, through everything. Then, just as suddenly as it began, it stopped. I shook violently against the hard floor, my body feeling achy and weak.

"Not bad, Draco. But if you'll allow me, I would like to handle this from here. You're dismissed," Lucius kicked me hard in the ribs and I doubled over in pain, coughing.

I heard footsteps peel away and drift off. I closed my eyes. I could feel him stooping over me. "Think you can hit me, hm?" his voice was at my ear. It was dangerously soft and calm. I opened my eyes just in time to see him grab a fistful of my hair and wrench me up. As much as I tried to suppress it, I howled in pain.

I was standing up me and his wand was at my back, prodding into my side. He led me up the main set of stairs. I could feel my body quaking with each step. I was sure I would trip. I felt dizzy from the curse. He led me down the same hallway as the guest bedroom and stopped at the end of the hall. He opened the door and shoved me inside. An enormous bed with silver and black bedding awaited me.

As I dared sneak a glance at him, I never regretted anything so much in my entire life. His expression said it all.

PLEASE tell me what you think of this chapter!! I'm really trying the best I can to update as often as possible. Reviews, ideas, and nice suggestions are much appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3Losing my being

AN: Thank you all for the wonderful reviews. For some reason (perhaps because I'm blonde) I can't figure out how to respond to them. I know, I'm a dunce. But the reviews are greatly appreciated and help greatly with the motivation, so the more, the faster I update. Things have been crazy lately with graduation, starting college and such, so please forgive me with the long delay. Please keep reviewing, suggesting, not flaming and so forth. Enjoy!

I fell to the floor with a clamorous crash. With the force that Mr. Malfoy had thrown me, I was sure my rear would be quite bruised. But that was the least of my worries. I looked up to see him advancing towards me-his trademark smirk tainted with menacingly dangerous eyes. God, why couldn't I have kept my mouth shut?

I sat up and shifted over to the corner of the room, my knees up to my chest and my arms wrapped around them. What was he going to do to me?

Seconds seemed like minutes as he continued towards me. He stopped right in front of my feet. He bent over and with two ice cold fingers, he lifted my chin up so my eyes were forced to meet his. Terror was clearly written across my face.

"Tut, tut. Such a cowardly little girl," he said in mock disappointment. "And I thought you would have more of a fight in you. No matter then."

His fingers left my chin and his two freezing hands grasped my arms painfully. He pulled me up with great force.

I could feel myself shaking uncontrollably. At least at the dungeon at the Lestranges I was left alone. Just left me there to rot in my own misery. I could tell Mr. Malfoy was different. I knew he wouldn't neglect me-in fact, I was sure he would be so kind as to make me wish I was dead every single day I was trapped living. Or did I already wish for that? Can you make someone want to die more if they would already kill themselves at the first chance? Was suicide really such a selfish act when no one cared you existed? When everyone that mattered was gone. Would you only be doing these people a favor? Disposing of yourself so you wouldn't be a nuisance. But at the moment I didn't seem to be a nuisance to this intimidating man before me. I seemed to be more of a toy to him. It seems strange you could be the most dreadfully boring person such as myself and have the most horrendous things happen to you. These thoughts ran rampantly across my mind but time seemed to freeze as his icy hands grasped me tighter.

He pulled me into him. My heart felt as though it were about to explode; it was pounding faster than I believed possible. I could smell him, such a clean, rich scent. If scents could be rich that is. No. He didn't smell rich. He reeked of wealth. Cleanly stinking. Such an oxymoron. Ironic for someone who killed for sport. I could feel his heartbeat. It was as calm as mine was erratic.

He half dragged and half threw me onto the bed. My hands gripped the blankets so hard my knuckles were white. He wrenched me up and flipped me over so my face was buried into a warm fluffy comforter that was none too welcoming at the present moment. I started to scream and sob without my full realization. I knew what he was about to do. With great struggle (Ha! No fight in me indeed), he somehow managed to pull my dress over my head, but luckily it was only my undies and back that he had an excellent view of. Thinking my undies were next to go, I struggled more, but cried out when I felt a sharp smack on my backside. He had struck me with that devilish cane of his. I thought it was down in the entrance way. He must have summoned it when I wasn't looking. Damn bastard. He struck me again, this time harder. I groaned in pain.

"No, please," I cried, "anything but this."

"Anything?" he repeated, amused.

God, me and my bloody mouth again. I snapped it shut as to not say anything else that would result in my pain and suffering. As if it mattered at this point.

His face softened slightly. "You have pretty eyes," he mused in a strange voice.

What? What the hell? My eyes are _brown_. Just brown. Not honey brown, chocolate, coffee or any other food flavor you could concoct, but simply brown. What was he getting at? All I knew was I certainly wasn't about to trust this mock kindness he was suddenly presenting to me.

"Anything you say…" he repeated yet again.

Wordlessly, he stood up, brushed down his robes, and exited, shutting the door behind him with a loud smack.

He was back within ten minutes returning with what looked to be some sort of heavy metal stick. I shrank back into the corner of the bed, staring wide-eyed at him. Lucius walked over to the side of the bed and grabbed my chin, pulling it towards him. I hissed in shock.

His face leaned in towards mine. Too close. His scent was intoxicating, but it was the kind of intoxicating where you wake up and want to wretch remembering the previous night. He was my nightmare.

"Tell me everything," he said in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

"A-about what?"

"Everything. Where were you born?"

"Eastern Kent. A town called Hastings."

"Ah. A childhood by the sea. How idyllic. And your parents?" His gaze was unnerving.

"M-my mother's name was Lydia. She was a teacher. My father's name was Thomas. He was an accountant." I didn't know what Malfoy was up to, questioning me about such useless information.

Without pause, Malfoy continued, "Who were your friends at Hogwarts?"

Puzzled, I spat, "What does that matter. They're dead now."

'Lucky them,' I thought bitterly.

"You wish you were dead, hm?" Malfoy inquired as if it were a typical, ordinary question.

"Does it matter?" I retorted.

"No, I suppose not. You belong to me now. I control whether you live or die. Whether you eat or starve. Whether you remain a virgin for much longer. You will learn, in time girl, to mind your cheek. You will find that I am not so tolerant for my belongings to disobey me in any way."

Ignoring my brain telling me to shut up, I said, "I belong to no one."

"You don't, you say?" Mr. Malfoy picked up the heavy metal stick in his left hand and casually walked over to the fireplace and with a wave of his wand, flames burst into existence. He placed the stick over the fire and used his wand to secure it in mid-air. He walked back over to me. I was shaking once again. It was amazing to me how I could be so courageous in my words and mind, but at the slightest threat of physical pain, my body so readily disobeyed me. He smirked at me, knowingly. He could read me like an open book. His hand reached out and stroked my hair.

"Now, now dear. I warned you about your cheek. We must be punished when we disobey our masters. Hm?"

I stared blankly at the wall in front of me, concentrating on anything but him and what I assumed to be branding iron heating up in the fire. His hand left my head with a sharp shove and he returned to the fire. The iron was red hot. He lifted it out of the flames and approached me. I scrambled to leave the bed, but I found myself unable to move. He cast another spell and my arms were tied above me to the headboard and my feet spread apart tied to the end posts. I cried silently while desperately trying to escape the invisible bonds that held me immobile. Lucius smirked once again as the iron approached my left thigh. I could see the red hot letters LM glaring at me. As they touched my skin, I felt myself lose consciousness.


End file.
